News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1887-01-06
Twelfth Night at HeywodeD
BY EDYTH KIRKwooD.

Heywode. albeit in New Jersey, is as
pretty little village as ever one might
wish to see. Settled long and long ago
by few English families, it retains, in
the garden like neatness of its sur
roundings, in its hawthorn hedges, in
its purplish pink Judas trees, which
seem almost to color the air in the
spring time, and, above all, in its cling
ing to old customs very pleasant re-
semblance to the mother. country, MIN
gled agreeably with the more progress
sive and liberal features of the States.
And so. with true regard to tradition,
Harold Heywode, of Heywode, insisted
that the Christmas holidays should take
their full length of festivity and not
think of concluding before Twelfth
Night.
Christmas was over, New Years had
passed, Twelfth Night had arrived.
The evergreens had been up so long
that the house was fragrant as q pine
forest; cheerful, open fires burned on
the hearths, and the old mansion was
full of company. Merry voices rang
through the wide halls, dancing feet
passed to and fro; if a door opened a
sound of lively music was heard; and
yet the master of all this cheer, the en-
wed, admired, much flattered Harold
Heywode, was standing alone in his
own little study, gazing gloomily into
the fire with an out-of- heart expression
l OF often seen on his calm face.
Mr.. Heywode was nearly thirty, good
looking and unmarried. Not only the
managing mothers Of the neighbOrhood
glanced friendly-wise i'll his direction
and praised their amiable daughters, to
his endless amusement, but the fame of
his wealth and excellence was known
far and wide, if not from pole to pole.
Everybody wondered why he had not
married, why he did no. marry now;
and plenty of reasons were invented to
account for this singular circumstance,
some even going so far as to hint at a
secret marriage or a buried sorrow, the
practical preferring a skeleton in the
poor fellows cupboard and the romantic
content with nothing less than tan
gled thread OF golden hair around his
heart
This last theory, may as well admit,
was the right one. and Mr.. Heywode,
alone in his household of merrymakers,
was thinking of q Twelfth Night five
years ago when his parents had enter
tanned Just such another set of light
hearted guests, and when he, one of the
happiest among them, found the ring in
the cake and gave it to pretty Rosa
mund Young, who lost it before the
evening was over Il bad omen which
came true. For, some way, she was
never the same afterward, and when he
wanted to give her another ring in its
place, she would not accept it, but told
him rudeIy, unkindly-to carry his
gift to Anna Mari. They had often
met since then; but there had never
been any explanation between them,
and she was now a guest in his house
and engaged at last-or so it was said -
to (of all people or herb the gravest,
most sedate Judge Wesley John, her
guardian and her fathers early friend
She was lovely as ever, more gentle
now, and there was something touching,
almost appealing, in her manner when
she spoke to him. Could she regret
those old days2 Was she altogether
happy in her engagement But what
nonsense! of course she was. He re-
called one afternoon before the Christ
mas just ended, when he had followed
Judge John to the door of a room where
the merry makers were fashioning mvs-
terious gifts, and Rosamund had hidden
o gorgeous silken cushion she was max
ing for him, while with her other hand
she playfully blinded her elderly guar
dian's eyes. There seemed to be the
pleasantest understanding between
them. WE'LL he hoped she might be
happy, but "summer and winter can
never agree, - and he doubted if
Come inw This In response to a
very prosaic knock, and his house,
keeper entered. "Nhat now, Mrs.
Barkley?'
'1've got everything ready, sir, as
you ordered-tbe bean baked in one
cake, the pea in another, the ring in
the lady cake, and all. "
'Welr'-a trife impatiently-that's
all right"
'The young people arc wild about
the fun, Miss Rosamund as full of it as
any of them. She babe me ask if she
might light the conservatory, and have
the little fountain started like 1t was
that night five years since"
''Nom-in decidedly irate tone from
the master Of the house.
'Dear me, STRIP
Mr.. Heywode's anger turned to mirth
at sight of her dismay.
''There, there, Mrs. Barkley, I was
too quick. After all, why notl Ger
talnly, tell Miss Rosamund to arrange it
all as she pleases; am perfectly will
ing"
FTIl tell her, sir" Mrs. Barkley
made felnt of opening the door, then
closes it again ut seems to me Mr..
Harold, that Miss Rosamund has some
thing on her mind, for all her pretense
of good spirits. She got letter yestcr-
day that most broke her heart.
wanted her to tell me why she cried so
but she wouldn't. and when l said I'd
speak to you about it she made me
promise solemnly 1 should do no such
thing"
'"Then don't tell me, Mrs. Barkley. y
"She has always been that fond OF
you, sir" rambled on the good soul,
she'd throw over her long faced Judge
in a minute if she thought"
Mr.. Heywode stopped the indiscreet
flow of words by an impatient move
ment of his hand, and noting the frown
on his forehead, the old lady wisely
withdrew.
But there was no hint of sadness Ol
urriere pensee about Harold when he
ioined the gay throng in his drawing
rooms. Some enc was playing rapid
mazurka, while a dashing girl was try
ing to teach stupid partner the ddacc
a Ia poEoRaise; few interested specta-